Stellar
by Kaesteranya
Summary: A collection of drabbles, shorts and standalone pieces written for the characters of Gundam Wing. Ratings, content and focus varies per piece.
1. There's an art to this

**There's an art to this.**

_FIRST ATTEMPT AT EVER WRITING FOR THIS SERIES SADLKGH;SAHDLG;HASDG._

_The title of this is taken from the 31 Days theme for September 6, 2008._

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They would, of all people, know exactly how small the cockpits of their machines are and how hot they could get with the air conditioning off, and at that moment the place only seemed tinier and hotter than it should have been now that the both of them were in one together, one pilot on top of the other, wearing nothing but the skin they were born in.

As he watches Heero Yuy take both their dicks in his hands and work them up to pace, Duo Maxwell realizes that he will, indeed, always be boggled by the way Heero looks when he is horny. Outside of their extracurricular activities, the pilot of the Wing Zero only ever seems to have three looks on his face: terminally bored, terminally annoyed, and royally Pissed Off. The face he brings with him to bed, however, is one of lowered eyes and panting lips and flushed cheeks, and Duo feels that if Heero ever allowed himself to look that way for anybody else, it would probably drive him mad with jealousy. Duo wants to be the only person who can drag Heero this far down, this far under. He strengthens his resolve by lifting the other boy up by his hips, and slowly lowering him down unto his cock. He stares straight into Heero's dark blue eyes as the latter slowly swallows him whole, and smiles once he is fully sheathed inside of the other pilot.

"Now doesn't that feel nice?"

"Shut up and _move_."

Duo, ever the gentleman, simply chuckles and obeys.


	2. One pierced moment whiter than the rest

**One pierced moment whiter than the rest.**

_The title is taken from a line in the poem "it is at moments after i have dreamed", by e.e. cummings._

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It is a habit of theirs from back in their days in the Academy together: coming up to one of their bedrooms, cracking open the best bottle of wine or whiskey or vodka or scotch and drinking the night away. They would talk of small things (women, cards, the quirks of their colleagues) and not about the big things (promotions, war games, killing machines). Even people like them needed to step back, after all. They would not drink themselves under the table – they were soldiers, and soldiers needed a clear heart and a clear mind in order to do their duty.

They part ways at dawn, with Trieze out on the runway, watching Zechs fly off in his robot. They do not say goodbye, because they know each other only too well, and neither of them are going to do something so stupid as to go off and get themselves killed when there's just too much work to be done.


	3. Many are the dead men

**Many are the dead men, too silent to be real.**

_The title for this was taken from the 31 Days theme for May 18, 2008. We recall that the Zero System of the Wing Zero drives people nutso. …Of course, if you guys dunno what the Zero System is (or the Wing Zero for that matter), I'm very, very sorry for spoiling you. __

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He's supposed to be fine, now that he's free of the Zero System and back to piloting his own gundam. He's mentally sound, of course, perfectly and utterly sane, so sane it's almost boring, so nice that it makes people like Duo Maxwell sigh and Heero Yuy scoff and Wufei turn away in disgust.

What he doesn't tell them, though, is that every night, ever since he stopped piloting the Wing Zero, he'd have these dreams. Dreams full of fire, of screaming corpses, of him in the middle with blood on his hands, licking it off, one finger at a time. He's gotten better at waking up without screaming, of course, but now he doesn't like mirrors, because the visions carry over the more he tries to ignore them.

It's a great exercise of will on his part, to squeeze down on the trigger of the Sandrock's controls and _actually let go_, to not riddle every single thing with bullets and enjoy himself when he's doing it. He's supposed to be the pacifist in the group, the one who fights to protect something. No one has to know that maybe, just maybe, he's as broken and twisted as the rest of them.


	4. I can't say which of you is in me

**I can't say which of me is in you and which of you is in me.**

_Written to match the prompt "airplanes on take-off". The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for August 9, 2007._

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Une discovers, with a small pang of embarrassment but not a trace of any actual regret, that she is so perfectly attuned to Treize Kushrenada's existence that she knows him as well she knows the vision of her own palm and each and every line marring its surface. She knows the precise, lazily confident way in which he carries himself right down the exact weight and rhythm his booted feet make on several different types of floors. She knows the warmth of his breath and the cadence of his voice. She knows how he likes to take his tea, where he buys his gloves, when he's in tip top condition or when he's just short of being absolutely perfect.

She does not have to stretch her imagination very far, then, to imagine what it would be like to sleep with him, to tumble down and spread herself across his navy blue sheets and let him take what he will. She knows how he will smile at her, what he'll murmur into her ear, how his fingers will feel over her skin, in her mouth, against her nipples, between her legs.

Une is content with speculation, then, because she knows he will do nothing to compromise his position and she does not expect him to. Because her mind is sharp and her imagination even sharper.


End file.
